


Particle Beam Cannon Fire

by PurpleGentian



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleGentian/pseuds/PurpleGentian
Summary: A guy writes Tauradonna in order to fight against his own internal turmoil, and finds it is much more difficult to write for a fandom he is not in than he bargained for. His initial goal was to [REDACTED], but later he decides "Ah, screw it" and begins conjuring an Alternate Universe Doomsday Device with intent on amusing himself.At least, that's the IDEA.R E C H A R G I N G P A R T I C L E B E A M C A N N O N





	Particle Beam Cannon Fire

Blake Belladonna and Adam Taurus were roommates for convenience reasons. The rent of this blasted apartment was high; while they had known each other for ages, they had split off when Blake had started a career as an actress. What she did not tell him, however, was that most of her career was spent allegorizing the misadventures of her and her three adorable friends – Weiss Schnee, Yang Xiao-Long, and Ruby Rose – as some action-oriented stunt show.

Adam had his own business to attend to. He handled the affairs of a mafia that Blake's father – Ghira – used to run. This included several cool people whom Blake occasionally high-fived, whose names escaped her only because of how infrequently she saw any of them. When he wasn't busy, however...

“Oh, hey.”

Adam's voice greeted Blake from a distance, as she arrived home. She was in a BoJack Horseman suit, having picked up the role recently. To even respond to him without her voice being muffled, Blake had to take off the horse head.

“'Sup?”

Blake went to sit down on a nearby couch. She awaited Adam's response. 

“Hrmph. Dust raid was intensive,” his grunts sounded like it nearly went to complete piss. 

A few fleeting moments passed by. Time had slowed down for them, now that neither was ensconced with anything “important.” All Adam had been doing in the kitchen was munching on some leftover food – a steak, some mashed potatoes, and broccoli all covered in sriracha sauce. 

“Oh, uh, by the way,” Blake awkwardly coughed, trying to break the chilling silence between the two, “I couldn't find Bambi for the PlayStation 2 at GameStop.”

Adam frowned, “Well, I can't say you didn't try...”

“They stopped selling PlayStation 2 games a while ago,” she added. Short Pause soon followed, as if wanting to be in a better fanfiction; but, succumbing to the gradual realization that this was likely the best Short Pause was going to get.

“Valid,” was Adam's only response, in between bites of the leftover food. 

Short Pause soon took over the room once again. Short Pause was a cruel mistress in this domicile, unwilling to let go of the control she had over two friends who happened to fuck. She wanted to jack up the rating from PG-13 to the hardest R imaginable, and knew exactly how to make it happen. 

Soon, Short Pause whispered, “Percussion.” Animal - from the Muppets - arrived overtly, and began abusing the drums. This broke the silence, like it was an ice sculpture being dropped from the highest building.

“Strings.” Demyx, No. IX of Orgy XIII, began playing from a sitar. He would then be accompanied by clones of himself, who played other string instruments. All around them would be wet from the ensuing performance.

“Winds.” From the window of an apartment across Adam and Blake, came incense. This at least motivated Blake to get off her ass, give or take some seductive wiggling, and had her get some incense to combat what she initially assumed was the smell of marijuana.

“Words.” Words were not overtly spoken. However, they did have a safeword for if things got too shitty to continue. The safeword was Bellabooty, and was conjured as a multiple entendre:

1) Adam once tried to get Blake in the mood by dramatically reading a slew of Lemons, which overused the term “Bellabooty.” Instead of making her horny, it instead made her cringe so hard that sex was not had for almost two months straight. 

2) “Bellabooty” was Blake's father's pornstar pseudonym. This was discovered amidst the aforementioned dramatic reading, much to everyone's horror.

Blake walked along the razor's edge, refusing to look down. She kept her head and quickly finished lighting all the incense for the room. She and Adam were now past the point of no return, and would fight to reach “the top.” To keep it, they would need to shut the windows. It was below zero-degrees Celsius outside. 

Clothes came off as the wheel was hit. The stakes were doubled, as a result. The tension was hot enough, that it throttled the heater like a bat out of hell. The front door, made out of solid oak, would have crashed like castle gates, if not for the fact it had been made sturdy from numerous repairs.

The Limit was welcomed.

One step more was all that needed to be taken, before Adam and Blake's tongues played a close game of Super Smash Brothers with each other. They were playing with the everlasting ambition of victory, as no one was left to stand in their way. They usually got careless, but as long as they were living, they were safe.

The furniture of the apartment, on the other hand, laughed, “I'M IN DANGER.”

Adam's prostate-inator quickly engaged with Blake's thigh state area. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and quickly shoved him against a wall. The impact caused a moose lamp to drop from a nearby coffee table, and it broke. 

Homestar Runner, who was tied up with duct tape atop of a bed in the living room, awoke with a sarcastic yawn, “Thanks fow bweaking my moose lamp.”

Well, that was one bed ruled out of the equation.

Blake's Nia and Adam's one-eyed monster continued to engage in the most intense melee ever, as they moved towards one of the two bedrooms. The incense in this bedroom was stronger, allowing for the smell of aftermath to be swiftly eliminated once everything was finally said and done. There was also a bottle of lemon lube, a surprise tool which would become a lot more useful later.

The bed in this room had a mattress big enough for the two of them to continue the intensity without a moment of immersion breaking. Both of them repositioned themselves, with Blake pulling on Adam's horns and making motorcycle noises. The main function of the motorcycle engine noises was to stifle intense moans, but it created a rhythm that allowed the sexual dueling to keep going. 

In a move that was completely out of left field, the scenery changed. Now, Blake, Adam, and the bed they were violently consummating a casual relationship on was in the middle of the desert, alongside a highway. Next to them was Crash Bandicoot, who was riding on a motorcycle of his own. His motorcycle's own noises and Blake's motorcycle noises were synchronizing into a cacophony of engines roaring.

Crash saw the going-on next to him, and declared, “Woah.”

Crash's bike and Blake's bed raced off, taking all sorts of weird turns and jumping off many ramps. Both parties were also racing off against multiple drivers, who looked to be bespectacled lab assistants. They paid no mind to the shenanigans around them, focused on their own desire to win 1st Place. Of course, none of the other drivers could compare to Crash and Blake.

The logical conclusion was that Crash won. However, he had won barely, getting a Crystal. In the meantime, however, Blake had broken what remaining crates Crash didn't, and obtained the race's Gem. Both were warped to their respective home planes, as if nothing happened; time had not passed by for very long.

And it was not long before Blake and Adam finished in spectacular climax, simultaneously. The adrenaline from the race should have kept them going, but with its end marked a stark realization in both of them of how things had truly gone.

That, and Blake had not yet eaten anything. She collapsed on the bed, sliding off of Adam and nearly passing out.

“Hmph. Good job,” Adam spoke at last, sounding out of breath. He was no more exhausted than Blake was, but he was still able to keep himself together, “We've got to work on your endurance, though; but for now...”

“Get me some Little Caesar's,” she grumbled. “Their Deep Dish pizzas are amazing.”

And so, Adam put on some pants, and began calling up the number for Little Caesar's pizza.


End file.
